


the last snowstorm of the year

by bananaquit



Category: Dead Poets Society (1989)
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Drabble, Gen, can be read as todd/neil or not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-15 23:50:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13624086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bananaquit/pseuds/bananaquit
Summary: no, i would not face the last snowstorm of the year





	the last snowstorm of the year

**Author's Note:**

> title inspired by the hippo campus cover of "last snowstorm of the year"

The pier was always Neil’s favorite place to run lines, his own personal stage. It seemed to be the place Todd and Neil were both happiest. Neil would bounce around and perform his lines with lively energy and smile on his face. A little of Neil’s happiness always managed to rub off on Todd, who could finally goof off and be as ridiculous as he pleased when he was standing on the slightly creaky, dull green boards of the dock. Todd thought it was probably the most beautiful spot on campus.

They were small and exposed compared to the vast expanse of the lake and the towering trees. The world around them was so big, but there, it didn’t seem scary. Its vastness was only something to be explored. The trees looked dead, but the bare branches where leaves had once been were but new opportunities for growth. It wasn’t just the scenery that made it beautiful, Todd thought, but the atmosphere of this spot, the boy in front of him. To Todd, spring was birth and growth, summer was life, fall was  decay and dying, and winter was death. If the world around them was turning from fall to winter, this spot was a little slice of summer and spring.

They practiced there whenever they could. The day before the play was the last time they were there together, one final practice before Neil was on the real stage. Todd remembered the way Neil’s cold-flushed cheeks had looked against all that white, a splash of rosy pink against a blank canvas, a vivid burst of color against a black-and-white world.

The next morning, it was snowing. Todd ran outside. He searched for Neil’s footprints, for some trace of him, but they were covered up by the falling snow, wiped from existence for all eternity. Neil had become one with the winter, the snow. The falling flakes were erasing everything. It was so pretty, pristine. For a moment, the issue at hand disappeared from his mind.

“It’s so beautiful.” he whispered.

Then he remembered that Neil was gone. He wasn’t with him to see the beauty, to be part of it. He wasn’t standing out on the dock where Todd had half-expected and desperately hoped he would be, where he should be. This must be some twisted dream. Todd tried to will Neil into existence, tried to picture him where he belonged. The breeze biting against his face and the hot, acidic bile rising in the back of his throat reminded him that this was all real. He felt sick for even thinking that anything could be beautiful without Neil.

He ran down to the dock, stumbling into the snow. It clung to him, covering him in white and sapping him of color to match the surrounding landscape. Some part of his brain still believed he would find Neil here, but his senses told a different story. The world seemed wider than it ever had before, emptier, lonelier. It felt colder than it had ever been, colder than it could ever possibly be. The world was colorless. His summer was gone forever. His warmth would never return.


End file.
